Her Ladyship

Lists

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 17:15:00 +0000

Things I have to do:

* Figure out why the automatic payment plan I set up with the IRS isn't working
* Find out where the new suitcase that Continental is supposed to be sending me ended up
* Get a cashier's check for our new place's first month's rent and security deposit
* Track down where exactly UPS delivered my replacement debit card
* Get my blackberry resynched with my work email
* Decide if the residual swelling from twisting my ankle three weeks ago is cause for finding a doctor
* Make appointment with my beloved gyno (seriously: LOVE HER)
* Buy: baby gift for a child that is approaching his first month's birthday, birthday gifts (late and upcoming)
* Make a stab at doing my job

Things I learned from reality TV shows:

* Always try things on (What Not to Wear)
* Memories don't go away if you get rid of crappy old souvenirs (Clean House)
* Never give up (The Amazing Race)
* I, actually, cannot dance (So You Think You Can Dance)

Lots of sittin'

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 20:45:00 +0000

I've had a fun week on the couch. My back occasionally decides to stage a work strike and opt not to cooperate, and Wednesday was a full work stoppage. I stayed home from work for two days and didn't even check my emails (which is when you know I'm sick). Wednesday I alternated between being camped out on the couch and taking uber-hot showers. That, and the dozens (only slight exaggerating) of ibuprofen that I took, helped me enough that I could make it to a therapeutic massage on Thursday, which seems to have sped up the healing process.

But ugh. Wednesday I toddled to the pharmacy - it's 1.5 blocks from my house, took me 45 minutes to get there and back - only to find out that they don't sell over-the-counter muscle relaxants. How did the older sister get them in "16 Candles" then? Anyways, I was desperate for a pain reliever and something to stop the muscles from seizing, so I fixed myself a few strong vodka and coke zero drinks. Let me tell you, drinking at home alone in front of daytime TV is not as much fun as you might anticipate. But it worked. And I should be in decent enough shape to get on another airplane tomorrow.

Yes, "another" airplane, as I just flew last weekend. I still had some frequent flyer miles and it was a friend in SA's baby shower, plus there was always the benefit of seeing The Texan and the pets. So off I went. I worked a few days when I was there but mostly just took it easy. When I left, they were on their 31st day of over-100 degree weather, which really inhibits one's interest in doing anything that involves leaving the air conditioning. Luckily, The Texan made my mom's lasagna my first day there so we had plenty of grub for the weekend.

It was great seeing The Texan again. And it was fun getting caught up with my SA friends. Seeing the pets, on the other hand.... The dog was his usual exuberant self. The cat, however, seems to be shifting his loyalty to The Texan. Not enough to wake him up at 4am; that honor he still reserves for me. But when he'd walk into a room, he'd go over to The Texan first and then me, the person who flew 1600 miles to see his ungrateful ass, second. This led to many iterations of the following scene:

Us, sitting par usual at opposite ends of our sectional, watching TV

Shrapnel walks into the room, jumps up next to The Texan, and sits about four inches from his face, staring intently at him.

The Texan: Okay, I'll pet you. pets the cat Fine, I petted you. Go away.

Me: Shrapnel, I'll pet you! Come here!

The Texan: I'm ignoring you, cat.

Me: Babycakes! Over here!

The Texan: eyes on the TV

Shrapnel: eyes on The Texan

Me: Sweetheart! Petting is to be had over here!

Shrapnel: rolls eyes, walks over to my end of the couch, but keeps an eye on The Texan in case he changes his mind.

Repeat ad nauseum.

Sigh. I guess, if I want to be mature about it, I would realize that the cat is nearly 18 years old and if he gets depressed, would spiral down pretty quickly, so it's a good thing that he's adapting fine to my absence. But when he's back here in DC, I'll win him back. With hugs! Cats love hugs. (Note to non-cat people: not really.) Hmm, I think I see where the problem is.

Just like the olden days

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 21:26:00 +0000

I have a work-ish happy hour tonight* and afterwards I'm supposed to meet up with a friend for drinks. Possibly food, too, as a liquid dinner never really turns out for the best. Anyways, this friend who I'm supposed to meet has left her cell phone at home, so we had to pre-arrange a meeting time AND place. ???? What is up with that? Reminds me of how plans used to be (relatively) concrete, where you knew a) who you were meeting up with, b) when, c) where, and d) what time. Not necessarily e) why, but that's okay. Now it's all free and easy, I'll call you when I know more what's going on, etc. And don't even get me started on twittering and the like of your whereabouts. If I want your company, I will let you personally know. After I finish yelling at the kids to get offa my lawn so's I can watch my stories.

* That means it's with former colleagues, so I guess technically it counts as networking, but I doubt we'll do anything more than pass around unsubstantiated rumors about our previous place of employ.

Being damned with faint praise

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 21:35:00 +0000

23 and I spent yesterday window-shopping up and down 14th Street. After having covered most of the U Street corridor, we decided that a nice cold beer would be perfect. So we go to Nellie's and cozy up to the bar. The bartender, per usual, asked for our IDs. He looked at them, then at us, and gasped, "You guys look good for your age!" Backpedalling, he tried again: "I mean, you don't look anywhere near as old as you are!" Um, thanks?

The new meeting-place

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 21:46:00 +0000

Move over, Starbucks: I had the best business meeting yesterday at Hello Cupcake. I had the death by chocolate cupcake, whose divine chocolate-ness put me in such a daze that I left my wallet on the table when I headed back to my office. If it weren't for the kindness of one of their employees who chased me down the street with it, I'd be ID-less for my trip to Texas this weekend. Not good.

I am so looking forward to tomorrow. I fly out to SA to see The Texan, Shrapnel, and Che for the first time in six weeks. That's the longest I've ever been separated from any of them. We're going to drive down to Corpus to spend the 4th on the beach. Of course, we're getting up at the crack of dawn to try and avoid the worst of the heat (SA has been undergoing temperatures over 100 degrees for the past week; all of South Texas is one big tinder-box). We're trying to hold off on planning too much for the weekend, as I'm only there for a few days. And he'll be out to DC to visit me in August. Still, very excited!!!!

I have become that person

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 22:06:00 +0000

On Monday, as part of my campaign to stop pissing away $10/day on lunch, I brought a can of Indian food (some sort of lentil mixture I believe) for lunch. I waited until my neighboring colleague had stepped out before I heated it up in the microwave. I shouldn't have bothered. That stench stuck around all afternoon.

Yesterday, I went to warm up my maple and brown sugar oatmeal in the microwave. Guess what scent wafted out to greet me? I love me some Indian food, but not with my maple and brown sugar oatmeal. I figured that that last usage would get it out of the microwave's system and we could all go on with our lives.

Not so much. I made oatmeal today and was faced with yet more curry smells. That's just not something you want mixed in with your breakfast food. Or at least I really don't want my poor office-mate to have to deal with that one-two punch first thing in the morning. Tomorrow I'm going to see if I can nuke a container of baking soda. That smell IS going away, one way or the other.

Let the hippie-fying begin

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 19:32:00 +0000

I bought my first fabric grocery bag at Whole Foods today. I kind of hate myself because of all the places to buy one of those from, Whole Foods is a about as holier-than-thou as you can get. However, let's face it, I did buy stuff there (chili and whole wheat naan bread, not the best combination for lunch, for the record), and I did need a bag.

I even did my full-on grocery shopping at Yes Natural Foods last week. Overall, it worked out okay. There was, however, the one incident where I went to bake a non-chicken chicken patty from the box of four that I'd bought from them and found that someone had opened up the box, taken a patty out, and taped the box together before putting it back on the shelf where it lay in wait for an unsuspecting shopper who just wanted a goddamn easy dinner, is that too much to ask? Mother Gaia doesn't condone stealing, Yes shoppers!

And I'm back in DC. Huzzah! Except for the part where my husband and pets are still wrapping things up in Texas. That, I'm not too thrilled with, but they'll be here soon.

Kicking it while it's down

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 17:17:00 +0000

I hate to pile on the newspaper industry, because god knows it has enough on its plate these days in remaining relevant and all that. But wow does the new revamp of the San Antonio Express-News suck.

They launched it a few weeks ago and I tried not to judge. But seriously it's like reading my college newspaper. In fact, I think my college newspaper might be thicker than the Express-News. They fired a ton of people, including 75 reporters, so obviously budget was an issue. But the powers that be shrunk it down and slimmed it so it's like reading the freebie paper that only has real estate listings. Plus they cut back on a lot of the features (wherefore art thou, food section?), yet somehow the comics pages went from two to three pages.

The funny thing, if that can be said about this, was what happened with the comics. They got rid of a few that I really liked ("My Cage" is actually fairly clever) and also a few of the columns that regularly run in that section, including the bridge column, Billy Graham's column, and Dr. Phil Donahue's column (who answers medical questions that seemed geared primarily toward seniors). The last three were gone, no exaggeration, for three days. Apparently San Antonio's retirement communities went up in FLAMES about these being missing and inundated the paper's mailbox with complaints. You do not mess with the bridge column, is what I learned from all this.

Yet "Peanuts" still staggers on...albeit in a greatly reduced form. I have great vision when it comes to reading and even I find the font on it nearly impossible to read. Talk about a hearty fuck-you to the people who insisted that it continue to moulder away on the comics pages.

The gods must be angry

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 21:31:00 +0000

That can be the only explanation for that liquid coming out of the sky. At least, that must be how most San Antonians explain rain to themselves, because otherwise there is no explanation for how SA drivers freak the fuck out every time there's water on the roads. Now, I am all for safe driving, particularly in my 1995 Neon which loves to skid given the slightest opportunity. But there is NO NEED to drive 20 mph below the speed limit in a light drizzle. Trust me on this.

The rain appears to have stopped, leaving a lovely amount of mud in its wake. Our poor dog has been exiled outside, as every time he comes in, his paws have to be washed, a job that The Texan and I both studiously try to avoid. (Oh, he comes in several times a day, and of course at night, we're not monsters. Just lazy.)

I can only imagine how the rain affected Oyster Bake. For the uninitiated, Oyster Bake kicks off San Antonio's biggest party of the year, Fiesta, which goes on for 10 days and basically shuts the city down (seriously, they even close down schools for the latter part of it). It started this weekend and I feel for the organizers who have drunken revelers stumbling through mud on their way to the portapotties. At least it isn't actively raining, although I'm not sure that would stop people from going out to Fiesta parties. True conversation I had with a native San Antonian the first week of April:

Her: Wow, it's already April!
Me: Yeah, I know, that's nuts. I can't believe taxes are due soon.
Her: *I* can't believe it's almost time for Fiesta! Are you ready for it?
[Editor's note: I wasn't aware that any prep time was needed for Fiesta, other than lining up a designated driver.]

90 degrees in the shade

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 20:44:00 +0000

You know, driving home today, I thought it was a mite warm out. But I figured that it was largely because I was wearing a black suit. Well, that didn't help, but my god - 90 degrees in the shade? It's barely the first week of April. What madness will this summer bring?

Digging myself out of this nice rut

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 23:04:00 +0000

Postings have been sparse this past month because things have been a-changing around here. I officially started a new job this week, after having spent the better part of a decade in my last job. I am very excited about this new job and think it will be terrific, but it requires changing how I think and go about my day and it will take some doing before it becomes more natural. It's bad enough that the San Antonio Express-News had to pick this week to shrink the size of its pages AND its font, now I have to deal with this work change too.

I am trying to look at this as a way in which I can establish shiny new and responsible habits. Also, sometimes you become a hostage to your routine, so a shake-up can be healthy. I'm trying right now to figure out what habits I can bring with me to my new job and which ones should be shit-canned. And I'm also working out exactly how many questions/requests I can make of my new colleagues before they lose their patience and tell me to shut my pie-hole. It's a fine line, I'm sure.

On a completely different note, The Texan and I were visiting our favorite bartender/turned chef on Wednesday so that The Texan could take pictures of the kitchen for a school project. While there, we had to eat (of course), and were presented with some artisan cheeses that the chef's dad had brought back from Europe. One of them still had HAY on the outside. Now that, my friends, is Authentic. It also was delicious, although we're not sure what it was that we ate; best I could fathom was some sort of pecorino.

Time to go wake up The Texan from his nap so that we can watch Evil Dead 2. We are both fans of USA's "Burn Notice," where Bruce Campbell plays the jocular best friend, and so I rented "Bubba Ho-Tep" which he starred in a few years ago (and for the uninformed, where he plays Elvis in a retirement home, gearing up forces with JFK [Ossie Davis][I KNOW] to fight off an evil Egyptian mummy)(by the way, Bruce Campbell does a helluva good Elvis impression). But it got the Texan talking about the Evil Dead series, and when I admitted I'd never seen it (my childhood was almost entirely devoid of R-rated movies), he immediately put them all on his Netflix queue.* We watched the first one last night, which was dated and campy and had subtle misogynistic tones (why did only evil dead women get chopped up? plus, a tree rape scene? wtf?) yet it had us both jumping at times. I hear the second one is deliberately campy and funny, which is exactly what I'm in the mood for.

* Secret to a happy marriage: separate Netflix queues.

The unthinkable has happened

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Sun, 08 Mar 2009 20:49:00 +0000

We ran out of cheese yesterday. To the grocery store, ASAP! I hear cheese withdrawals can become quite violent.

The gauntlet has been thrown

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 22:53:00 +0000

Saturday night, The Texan and I went out for dinner for my (thirtymumble) birthday. I asked him to find a good Italian restaurant, as we rarely go out for it. Mama Ladyship is Italian and frankly most Italian places in the United States serve their food far too sweet. The Texan more than exceeded my hopes with Luca, a restaurant in the Fairmont Hotel* in downtown San Antonio. The food was wonderful, they had a great wine selection**, but they have something few other restaurants can claim.

When we walked into the Fairmont's lobby, we were greeted with a friendly, big yellow Lab. I thought maybe he was with a guest, but a few steps further and we saw his bed and a few toys. The Texan found out that the dog - whose name is Luke - was rescued by the owner of the Fairmont and now has full run of the place. He can wander around at will and often is requested by guests to go up to their rooms and chill with them for a while. Best of all, the dog has his own business card. He's the director of pet relations, and his business card is nicer than mine. Seriously, is your business card gold-embossed? Luke's is.

* The Fairmont's claim to fame, outside of Luke the dog of course, is that it used to be a few blocks over. Wanting to change location, and not wanting to deal with the historical society, they moved it on a truck to its present location.

** I went with our waiter's recommendation and had a not-too-fruity pinot noir to go with my ravioli. This was after the prosecco I had with our appetizers and before the Bombay Sapphire gin and tonics I tossed back at Drink afterwards. I spent most of yesterday curled up on the couch, rehydrating. Even hungover, though, and in the mood for brainless entertainment, "Bridget Jones' Diary 2" still sucks.

Wrong on so many levels

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Thu, 19 Feb 2009 19:02:00 +0000

Today, I drove past a McDonald's that was offering 50 McNuggets for $8.99. I think your heart would explode if you ate 50 of those in one sitting, and it's not like they refrigerate well. I realize that it's often cheaper to buy in bulk, but there has got to be a limit.

Oh, I'm ready

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Sun, 15 Feb 2009 17:21:00 +0000

I would like to start this off with a PSA: I AM NOT PREGNANT, NOR DO I PLAN TO BE. However, I do have three friends who are in the family way right now so it does make you think. And not to downplay the trials of parenthood, but I honestly think owning Shrapnel for eleven years now* has prepared me quite well.

1. You know how they say once you have kids, you never go to the bathroom alone? Thanks to Shrapnel, that has been my life for the past 11 years. Adding to the fun since I moved to Texas is that I often have a snarling cat and barking dog fighting around me. Let me tell you, you don't know vulnerability until you are trapped in a very delicate position in the midst of a pet rumble.

2. This cat pukes all the time. I've had him checked up by several vets and they all say the same thing: cats throw up. (In fact, there was even a "King of the Hill" episode about it. And Hollywood wouldn't lie to us.) So I've just become accustomed to keeping my eyes on the ground when walking around the house. It only takes one barefoot "discovery" of a pile of cat puke to change your habits really quickly.

3. Cats are nocturnal, despite my every effort to train Shrapnel otherwise. After years of being awoken numerous times in the middle of the night, we have arrived at a detente: he comes to get me around 4AM, I get up, go to the bathroom, pet him and maybe give him a little water out of the faucet. Then we can all go back to bed for several hours. If he ever feels like he needs more attention than that, I have my trusty pressurized air can to squirt at him** and convince him otherwise.

4. Litterbox: enough said. Okay, well maybe this: it's under my desk, and at times I swear he's launching a chemical attack at me.

Ugh, a new pile of puke has been found. Duty calls. Tomorrow: another story about my kitty-cat! (Just kidding. If I didn't put a moratorium on this sort of thing, this blog would quickly devolve into "My Angelic Kitty-cat and How Awesome He Is.")

* Shrapnel was originally supposed to stay with me for six months while a friend worked overseas. What can I say, I'm a sucker. Although I must stay that for the first few months that I had him, I was tempted to put him in a box and ship him to his former owner.

** The air doesn't hurt him, I don't spray it in his eyes or anything like that. He just doesn't like the sound of it. It's gotten to the point where we just have to point at the can and look at him, and he takes off running.

Honeymoon's over

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 18:13:00 +0000

Sorry Obama, FAIL. Only one week in and we in Texas are under a winter storm warning. A winter storm warning! And here I was expecting sunshine and rainbows for the term of your presidency. Thanks for nothing.

*********

In other news, I learned a valuable lesson about respecting the rules last week. My job now has me going to a site twice a week for meetings that is still under some construction. I'm learning all the shortcuts and am always looking for ways to shave valuable seconds to my walk from the parking lot. (Time, money, etc.) The other day I realized that it was almost a direct line from the parking lot to the back of the building where I was headed, if I walked through the grass. No problem, I thought.

Turned out what looked like innocent grass was in actuality a hidden marsh. I took two steps in the "grass" and sunk to my feet in mud. And it wasn't regular mud: it was clay, which basically engulfed my feet and turned them into two rectangular blocks. As I tried to free myself, the mud sucked the shoes off of my feet. Fortunately, I was wearing flip-flops, so after getting out of the marsh, I shuffled through the grass and got the worst of the mud off of me. My shoes, however, would take some doing to get clean. So I just abandoned them at the side of the building - no way was I going to show up at my meeting with two filthy flip-flops in hand. After the meeting, I scurried over and, studiously casual, gathered them up for the hike back to my car.

So take it from me: when walking through a new construction site with implanted sod that may not have taken yet to the ground, STAY OFF THE GRASS.

And then there was light

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Wed, 21 Jan 2009 19:41:00 +0000

Number of days of gorgeous, dry, cool-yet-sunny sparkling days we've had in a row: 2

Number of days Obama has been in office: 2

Coincidence?

Getting caught up

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Sun, 18 Jan 2009 19:54:00 +0000

Life is finally calming down a bit. Just a word to the wise: never, EVER assume that you can work a week from your parents' house without having outside confirmation that the internet connection is a) reliable and b) relatively speedy. When I'd last visited, back in March, everything was dandy, but things have for some reason gotten belabored with my dad's wifi connection (The Texan and my brother-in-law, Roadrunner, both think that the computer has become infested with spyware and needs a good cleaning). So while all my colleagues came back from their winter holidays and got right back to business, I was barely keeping afloat with an internet connection that dragged its ass and forced me to spend about half every day at a local coffee house, which kind of bagged the point of spending the time at my parents' house to begin with.

Anyways.

Everyone else in the house is napping right now, which is the best way to spend a lovely balmy Sunday afternoon. I think I may have to join them shortly. I am reluctant to stop revelling in the speedy internet connection though. (How bad was the internet situation? So bad that I couldn't play in any of my Scramble games on Facebook and GOT BOOTED from all of them. WAH.)

Finally

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Fri, 02 Jan 2009 19:02:00 +0000

I've been writing "2009" since about October, which I guess my subconscious trying to hurry up and get done with 2008 already. But now my subconscious and I can revel in the gloriousness that is the new year. Hooray.

The Texan and I plan to get it off to a bangin' start: taking down our holiday lights and decorations. Including the tree, sigh. Had to happen, though: no one wants a repeat of the year that I waited until Valentine's Day to haul the tree out and surreptitiously stow it in the dumpster of the building next door, then having to sweep up the trail of pine needles which lead straight back to my front door. (I don't think I'd be a very good criminal.)

I already got started on that, sort of. Last week, for xmas, The Texan made a turkey. Because we had the whole carcass at our disposal, he decided to boil it and make soup. A few days later, I started to smell something that, frankly, was rotting. And being the supportive, loving wife that I am, I immediately assumed that it was the turkey. It wasn't until I was wandering around the living room, going, "God, this almost smells like...rotten fruit" that it came to me. It was those damn oranges I'd made "decorations" out of by poking cloves in them and hanging up in the tree. They were all withering away on our tree of death, forcing me to toss every last one of them. I would like to point out that NONE of the sources I consulted on how to make those ornaments said anything about needing to take extra steps to preserve them. Stupid fruit. Say what you will about Twinkies, but those things preserve themselves.

Happy New Year! Get money out of the ATM now while you can!

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 19:57:00 +0000

Not to be all Gloomy Gus at the end of the year, but man was it hard to find an ATM that had money in it. It took me three tries to find a bank with one. I even called my own bank to harass them to see if there was a problem with my account (there was not). Finally, when I did get to a bank that actually had money in it, I was behind a car that had "CASH" stamped all over it. Turned out that they were huge Johnny Cash fans, but for a minute there, I thought it was an omen.

Anyways, tonight, be sure to use a cab that takes credit cards, just to be safe, and drink responsibly. That is to say, quaff only GOOD champagne, because god knows the bad kind can give you wicked hangovers.

Back to the grind

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 18:28:00 +0000

For a day at least. I took it pretty easy last week but plan on putting in a whole day (one! whole! day!) today. I'm trying to wean myself off xmas cookies too but it's hard, as we keep getting supplied with new ones.

This is the first holiday season in a decade that I didn't have to fly anywhere. My take on it? Awesome! On the big day, we opened gifts, ate a cheese souffle that is a Ladyship family tradition, and watched DVD after DVD. You know, after all these years, "War Games" really holds up. Even though the computers are laughably HUGE. Plus the Texan made a fantastic turkey dinner, which allowed us copious amounts of leftovers for the holiday weekend. Today's lunch was the first leftover-free meal I've had since Wednesday.

Now my main task for the week is ascertaining whether Maybelline "Superstay" lip gloss is all that it's cracked up to be. I love lipstick, but because I wear dark colors, it's painfully obvious when it's worn off. And yet the long-stay lipsticks are too drying. So far I'm not impressed with the superstay, as it tends to wear partially off and have the rest of it stick around for 16 hours (not a good look, btw), but I'll give it a fair shot. Wednesday night we're going to a small NYE party and I want my lipstick to be up to the challenge.

The weather outside is frightful...

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Thu, 18 Dec 2008 22:21:00 +0000

....so it must be time to put up the xmas lights. Somehow, The Texan and I have developed our very own holiday tradition of holding off on doing so until the weather is crappy. Nothing like skittering about on a wet roof to really get the blood pumping.

We do have a change from previous years inside the house: an honest to god live xmas tree. I used to always get them when I lived in DC, but The Texan always insisted that we use the artificial one if we weren't going to be here for the holiday itself. Well, after flying to LA last xmas, I vowed that it would be a cold day in hell before I flew during the Christmas season again.* So this year, we're staying home and thus have an actual tree. It's purty. So far, the cat has avoided knocking it down (although he's far too interested in the tree water for my liking). I "decorated" it with random ornaments I've gotten through the years, plus some homemade ornaments - the kind where you stick cloves in oranges. I tried not to be insulted that every website I read about these ornaments on insisted that these were GREAT things for pre-schoolers to do. Um, sure. No problems here at all. Now all we need are some presents to go under it. And our stockings to arrive - I ordered some online, am not sure if they'll be here in time for St. Nick to put anything in them or not.

* Seriously, I've had to fly on or around xmas every year since 1996. FLYING SUCKS. And flying over the holidays is even worse.

Happy birthday, The Texan!

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 21:57:00 +0000

It's a milestone birthday for The Texan today, one he's been looking forward to with equal parts dread and excitement (one of his friends came over today and swore to me that his birthday was tomorrow. Um, no). Happy birthday! Hope that you have a wonderful day. And that I don't regret buying you "Hellboy 2."

********

Today is the taking it easy day - The Texan is off at the bestest spa ever (The Watermark, if you're ever in SA and looking for a fantabulous experience) and tonight we're going out for seafood. Well, one of us will be eating a terrestrial animal, but you get the picture.

Saturday, on the other hand, I'm throwing him a small party at a restaurant where one of our favorite bartenders works (the one we've followed from bar to bar. Let's hope he sees it as simply being loyal customers). I've spent some time getting stuff ready for it - decorations, invites, etc.

And as part of the party prep on Saturday, I ran into another car.

Another car that was parked all by its lonesome in the parking lot of the bakery where I wanted to order his cake. Another parked, SHINY RED CAR which couldn't have been easier to see.

See, I'd gone to order The Texan's cake, but the shop was closed (at 3:30 on a Saturday. Strange, right?). So I was thinking about whether I should call the shop owner or if it would be better to come back on Monday, and if so, what would be the time the bakery would most likely be open. As I was ruminating, I realized that I'd hit - no, too violent, I'd pressed up against another car. Now, pressing up from behind may be sexy on the dance floor, but it really should be avoided in parking lots.

I jumped out, first looking to see if there were any witnesses. None. So I darted over to the other car, where I saw to my relief that it was barely damaged. Most of the harm was done to our car, which is white. Or should I say, was white, as the back bumper now is a lovely swirl of pink, red, and white.

However, there were a few really small scratches on the other car's bumper. I debated it, but after talking to The Texan, decided it was really better to leave a note with my contact information. Which I did. Eventually. Hooray, I passed a real-life ethics exam.

Turns out the owner of the car is the daughter of the woman who owns the bakery. The first question I asked her when I heard that was, "What hours is your mom's bakery open?" She's getting it fixed, and I'll be paying for it. So stupid. So avoidable.

Getting a little squirrelly

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 19:34:00 +0000

Recently, I've been sticking pretty close to home. This is partially because we're trying to cut back on expenses - I hear tell of mythical creatures who have a "budget" and thought I'd give it a whirl - and it's partially because I have a major work project due at the end of the month which requires a lot of focus (emotional energy even if I'm not actually working on it at the time). It's...starting to get to me.

Today I found myself randomly popping and locking as I walked around the house. The only witness was the cat, and he didn't seem to mind my flailing about too much. I think I need to start making more of an effort to go outside, even if it's just for five minutes here and there.

On the other hand, Scramble is now my bitch. (Which may also explain why I haven't finished the work project as of yet.)

**********

My new glasses arrived late last week. I am still trying to ascertain how I feel about them. I've worn the hipster brown cat eye frames for the past decade, so this is a giant leap for me: brown frames that are rectangular cat eyes. I'll give you a minute to pick yourself up from the floor. Still, it's enough of a difference that I'm still noticing them. However, I can see a lot better now, which technically is the point of wearing glasses, so I shouldn't bitch too much.

Who'd have thunk

noreply@blogger.com (Her Ladyship) — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 01:43:00 +0000

If you'd put a gun to my head and forced me to guess, I would never have said that the "L" on my keyboard would have been the first letter to be worn off. Although, come to think of it, I grew up watching "Wheel of Fortune"* and L is one of the five letters that they supply you with during the final round.

*Hey, before you judge, I'll have you know I much preferred "Jeopardy," another staple of my childhood. Even to this day, whenever the Ladyship family gathers for dinner, conversation stops when Alex Trebek saunters on-screen wearing one of his lovely suits.